


outside the window

by centurytuna



Series: glowing [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centurytuna/pseuds/centurytuna
Summary: Musings on the new year, and a memory.





	outside the window

The snow has stopped. It wasn’t a storm by any means, just a light falling of snow to usher in the new year. The sun is peeking out, a small reprieve from the dreariness of the past few days. He’s somewhere sunny, she thinks. 

They never got to welcome the new year together, all these 21 years. When they weren’t working, they made sure to cultivate their separate lives. Holidays were spent with family and friends that they never got to see enough. This year isn’t any different.

She’s grateful for the distance, and she’s sure he is as well. Her mind wanders to the conversation they had that weekend, a stolen moment inside one of the tents as they waited for their ride to the red carpet.

***

He runs his knuckles along the length of her arm before grasping her hand in his and intertwining their fingers together. There’s no one around, so she lets him. She missed his touch, the ones that always mean something.

“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight, Tess.”

“You haven’t even seen everyone.” She scoffs but shivers at his words. There’s an implication to them that she doesn’t want to read into. He doesn’t say anything in response, just shakes his head and sways their arms together for a bit until he stills.

“I don’t know how I am supposed to get over you when you look like that.” He mutters under his breath.

She pulls her hand away and wraps her arms around herself. This is not the time nor the place for this conversation. She looks at him and he’s staring at his shoes, eyes blinking rapidly. Tonight was already going to be emotional for both of them as it is; there was no need to add their broken romance to the mix.

He composes himself with a sniffle and a smile that doesn’t make his eyes crinkle in the way that she loves. “Sorry. I’m trying to move on but it just hits me sometimes.” He straightens his jacket and offers his hand. “We should go.”

She takes his hand but doesn’t move an inch. Instead, she basks in its warmth and runs her fingers over the pads of his, memorizing the softness of his skin and the ridges of his palm. It’s only been a week since he held her on the ice, but she’s starting to forget.

“For what it’s worth, it’s hard for me to see you with her.” She whispers without looking at him, and his sharp intake of breath tells her he wants to say something he knows he shouldn’t. She doesn’t let him.

“But tonight is not about that.” Her mask slips back into place but her eyes beg him to understand. Tonight is a celebration of their 21-year partnership, the only relationship either of them had that was worth the effort and the heartache, not only for all that they accomplished but for what they found in every step of the journey: a deep and enduring bond with each other.

He takes a deep breath and she sees the shift in his face, how he schools his expression into his media persona. It’s not as opaque as hers, his eyes still hold a sadness that she hopes can pass off as being overwhelmed, but it would have to do.

“Let’s go.”

***

The last time they saw each other was three weeks ago, in one of their last public appearances together until the GKP trip in May. In that time, she’s gone to her photo shoots, done her social media updates, and relaxed with family and friends during the holidays. In that time, he’s gone to several trips to be with his girlfriend, dropped his sports agent to handle his own business, and spent only Christmas and his mother’s birthday at home. It’s the first steps towards the private life he’s always wanted to have after they retired, away from all the crazy attention this year has brought them. On days when she’s particularly morose, she can’t help but think that it’s the first steps towards a life away from her. 

The last time that happened, they found their way back to each other. She’s not so confident this time around. There’s no common goal anymore, nothing binding them together except if they choose to do so. And right now, they’re not choosing each other. She’s choosing herself, the life she’s always dreamed of after they retired, the life that she thinks and hopes will make her happy. (She already knows who makes her happy, but she refuses to place her happiness on someone other than herself.) He’s choosing himself, because he waited long enough for something that she didn’t know if she could ever give him, and he deserves to find someone who can, someone who is sure, someone who is ready.

He’s the best man she knows and, at the root of it all, she just wants him to be happy.

Outside the window, the sun is up. It’s time to get out of bed.


End file.
